


Chocolate swirls

by Tarredion



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2020, 2030, Baking, Birthday Cake, Birthday Fluff, Deaf Character, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Secrets, Self-Worth Issues, Snapshots, Surprises, parent!phan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:40:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22618777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarredion/pseuds/Tarredion
Summary: Dan tries to surprise Phil for his 33rd. He fails, as humans do, but ten years later he has luckily got two adorable little helpers at his side. And maybe that makes everything just a little better.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	Chocolate swirls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [olfrogbait](https://archiveofourown.org/users/olfrogbait/gifts).



> Thank you to the wonderful Olfrogbait for the prompt! This was really fun to write :D
> 
> (oh and if anyone reads this and feels like a tag has to be added due to tw issues, please let me know)
> 
> The birthday cake is from BakingWithRyan bcs I have failed making it myself, and NDCS etc were resources used to portray Elm as accurately as possible - be aware that even if not said, they're signing to him whenever speaking to the group or Millie

It had been a week full of birthday celebrations for Phil’s 33rd. As always he’d decided to spread them out like butter on bread, for more slices of cake and a few more spaced out congratulations from friends. 

Mostly for the cake slices, of course.

Most of the time Dan would go with, but he’d decided not to a few days before this particular date. One reason was he didn’t personally know anyone at this particular party.

_ “I’ll be back in a few hours babe! Don’t break anything.” _

Dan could still hear himself scoffing audibly at Phil’s words.  _ “That’d be you if I went out, dingus, not me!” _

_ “Dan-” _

_ “Oh whatever. Just make sure you have fun.” _

_ “I love you.” _

A grin of comfort and familiarity had come onto his face, like it did now to match the memory.  _ “I love you too, you spork.” _ he’d responded, melting into Phil’s warm, cradling arms.  _ “Now go have some fun, and some extra cake. You’ll be zazzed on sugar once you come back, and it’s a bonus if only one of us is riled up.” _

Phil had raised an eyebrow at him, not letting his steady, comforting grip go until one of his feet were already outside the door.  _ “You could still come with.” _

Shaking his head, Dan had refused once more. He had had other plans. That was another reason, even if it was secret.

_ “You sure?” _

_ “Yes, go have fun now. You deserve it, birthday boy.” _

_ “Certain this birthday boy will be able to have fun without his accomplice?”  _

That time Phil’s tricolour eyes had been the ones pleading with him, more so than his voice. 

The way his heart had done a somersault in his chest had made it painstakingly hard to shove Phil out the door, and to give him one final kiss to last them for the hours that would go by until he came back home. Still, in a flourish of giggles, he had been able to keep the door shut on him for long enough that he gave up his persuasions. 

He’d sunk to the floor and listened to Phil’s footsteps retreat downstairs. Only when he heard the loud lock of the communal entrance click did he throw their own door open again. He had shouted a final goodbye down the stairs, earning another giggle and an  _ I-love-you _ back.

And now, as he stood in front of the assembly of condiments on their kitchen counter, he wondered why he chose to trade a perfectly good day out with his boyfriend and his friends for baking a cake. A damn cake. He, a man who had only ever baked not-alone, should somehow be able to bake a full cake  _ while _ alone.

Sighing, Dan wiped the nervous sweat off his brow. He needed to get a grip of himself real quick, or he’d spiral, and then the surprise would be ruined when Phil came home to a stack of unmixed ingredients lined up on the counter, himself curled into a ball of tears and disappointment on the floor. 

So, rolling up his sleeves and taking a final breath before stepping through the doorway of either doom or success, he went to work with his plan.

Turning on the stove, he poured one cup of water into their saucepan and set it atop to boil, like the recipe ordered to. Triumph sailed across his features. At the very least he could begin, and that was always a start, wasn’t it.

Skipping ahead to step five while waiting for the water to boil, he added the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and the salt into a bowl. Then, once the bubbles rising within indicated him to, he poured the liquid into a separate bowl and whisked it into the cocoa powder. He felt a pride build in his chest, seeing the lump-free concoction appear before his eyes on his own accord.

He was whizzing through the recipe at this rate!

Not two seconds could go by before things actually did turn south, however, because Dan suddenly had to watch in horror as the bag of sugar split open in his hands. About three times the amount he needed fell straight into the mixing bowl, splattering some of the other dry ingredients out on impact.

Oh. 

Well, he supposed Phil wouldn’t mind some extra flavoring, and so went onwards, without much grumbling. Just with  _ a lot _ of mumbling and some shed tears, that was.

Dan had collected himself by the time both wet and dry were mixed together in the same bowl. Or at least he had a slither of sanity left, just enough of it to outweigh the panic and defeat that shone through his messy curls and red, stained eyes. Furthermore he wasn’t shaking anymore, which was another bonus.

He greased the two pans, being as careful as possible as to not destroy the counter any more. Traversing the lathered space was difficult enough.

After filling them with even amounts of cake batter, he fell to the floor with his head in his hands. It was yet to be over, but at this point, making it this far was a delight in and of itself.

It was then that Dan realised he had forgotten to preheat the oven.

Not too much of a hinderance, really, because he earned a good chunk of time during which he cleaned the kitchen, and prepared for the icing. He supposed not much else could go wrong after what had gone by in the past hour or so, and the expected smile from Phil made the porcupine in his chest uncurl as he thought, transforming into a stretch of tepid lightness. Surely it was an invincible feeling.

Oh how very wrong he was on all accounts. 

Furiously fanning the two layers of mush that were melting onto one another, Dan tried desperately to save what was left of his attempt at baking. The icing wouldn’t go on, the oven had simultaneously been too hot and too cold at the same time, the layers were unsatisfyingly uneven in so many ways, and he was certain that at this point they would taste of nothing more than diabetes and shame.

It was such a feeble attempt at a rescue that half of the top slid like a landslide down the side of the cake, leveling it diagonally, and the other half collapsed in on itself. 

With horror and irritation, Dan fell onto the floor in a similar fashion, the quiet kitchen echoing with only his wretched sobs. 

The unmistakable sounds of anguish rose from the depths of his fiery throat, tearing and clawing into what was left of his daily self-esteem.  _ He had tried so hard to make something so atrociously bad, and all the effort would be for nothing in the end. He’d have ruined Phil’s birthday celebrations and day by even trying- _

“-an?”

_ -which in the end was his own fault, and his own fault only. He was enough of a failure, really, and Phil would only realize that he’d been able to hide it for so long when he was really a mess. Never mind the- _

“Dan, where are y-”

_ -countless discussions they had had about self worth and happiness. Phil would realize Dan clinged onto him for dear life, and could barely function as an adult without him. Around his birthday of all days he’d leave Dan’s clingy, desperate ass and- _

“Dan! Oh my god, are you alright?”

_ Dan _ ?

“Please tell me what’s wrong.”

_ Oh. Right.  _

Dan felt Phil’s arms wrap around him, protecting him from whatever whirlwind tried to tear down his mind. His tears were wiped away, and a kiss placed on each spot they had grazed. He could feel his skin glow at his boyfriends touch, and he was glad comforting came so effortlessly to him, or otherwise he’d have spiralled down a dangerous hole. Like he totally just didn’t.

“Please.”

Burying his blotched face in Phil’s chest, both hands clinging to his button-up that was now sure to be ruined by flour and cocoa, Dan cleared his throat that had gone dry from crying.

Hiccupping, he clung even closer to him. “M’sorry…” he mumbled. “I messed up the surprise and ev’rything…”

“Messed up what?” he heard Phil’s voice ask from above him, soothing and empathetic, and slightly muffled by his sweaty curls. 

“The cake, Phil. It was meant to be a surprise and I ruined it like twenty times over.”

With the appearance of light in his eyes, he realized Phil was craning his neck to find wherever the cake sat; to get a good look at it himself. He groaned when he heard the light chuckle that rolled over Phil’s soft lips, one of a kind he only heard every so often. “That thing?” he asked softly, the words treading on the line between amusement and affection.

“Yeah,  _ that thing _ over there is a perfect representation of how you should feel about me right now, Lester.”

“So, adoring, then.” Phil said, so matter-of-factly that Dan couldn’t help the way his eyes widened.

Gaze meeting with Phil’s blue ocean orbs, he whispered: “You- you can’t be serious.” The arms around him only tightened their grip, and the smirk that grew on Phil’s face along with the way his eyes grazed his face made his stomach flip.

“A hundred percent serious.”

Leaning up towards Phil’s lips, Dan let out a comfortable, content sigh. The squirrel-red hair on his sideburns visibly stood, and he marveled in the way he sucked in a breath at the action. “Well then  _ Lester _ , can I say I love you and your many ways of cementing my confidence?”

“Most certainly.” Phil purred, before stealing him a kiss that may have been even sweeter than the failed cake. 

Maybe things were okay after all. Maybe he could try this again some day, if this is where it lead.

⁂

Sunk into the sofa crease that seemed to follow them everywhere in life, Dan felt his eyes droop despite the ruckus their two children were creating in the same room.

Millie, seven, had seemingly made it her life’s mission to get her four-year-old brother Elm to catch her for once in their game of tag. She tried every trick in the book; jumping across his stumbling path; creeping around slowly; purposefully falling in the middle of the floor; etc.

Despite her best efforts, Elm really did not spare a care in the world for tag today. The deaf boy sat on the floor, flipping through his favourite book, and even when Millie went right up in his face he didn’t bat an eyelash at her. He was too enthralled by the pictures, and would every once in a while pipe up with an involuntary noise of enjoyment.

Eventually Dan could feel a mild headache creeping up, with all the noise their daughter was making. She knew very well Elm  _ could not _ be bothered by it, and so it did not bother her either until one of her parents personally complained about it.

While wondering what to do about it, and how to calm her, an idea of an activity popped into his head, which he realized Elm would also be able to participate in. That was always great.

After struggling to push himself off the sofa, Dan shushed Millie and brought both of the little ones close. 

He stroked a strand of stray ginger hair out of Elm’s face, making sure his attention was on his father. “Hey, how about we make something for pa’s birthday?” he said and signed. Still, the confusion was immediate on Elm’s face.

Millie sighed theatrically, bringing out her dramatic flare in all the best situations. “Daaaad!” she whined, though a smile had crept up. “Papa’s birthday isn’t until in a couple of days! And you know best of us he doesn’t like to be reminded of aging, yeh.”

Dan did know but he decided to not say so. Instead he signed what she said as fast as he could to her brother, who giggled under his breath at the words. 

He thought for a moment, animatedly stroking his chin in that villainous way. "I was thinking... a cake." 

"A caKE?" Millie jumped up from her spot on the floor and embraced her fathers neck. "A cake! Yes please!"

"Cake makes everything better for you doesn't it." 

"YES!"

"Just like Philly, then.. got all the worst and best of his genes."

Tongue poking out of his teeth -a habit he'd picked up from his  _ celebrity crush _ \- Dan turned to the four-year-old. His endearing giggles rocked his body and his hair bounced. After signing to him  _ You'll get to choose the flavor _ they clasped hands and Millie led them into the bright, sunlit kitchen. All of the ingredients were neatly organized in their respective cupboards per Kath's instruction, since she knew very well how stressful kids’ meals could be, and it was a great way of utilizing all the extra space in their forever home.

Hands resting on the marble counter, Dan remembered his failed attempt of baking for his husband all those (ten) years ago, before they were even married or had planned properly for kids. For whatever reason his gut told him this time it'd all go a little better. 

Hopefully at the very least ok, since he wouldn't want to end up on the floor crying with an energetic but caring seven-year-old running about, and a deaf four-year-old standing around being panic-stricken.

Facing his children again, Dan asked; "So, Elm gets to choose the flavor of the cake, if that's alright?" It was almost as if he needn't have asked, however, because Millie was already squishing her brother's cheeks. She nodded distractedly yet eagerly in response.

Dan dressed all three of them in rainbow aprons and arranged the ingredients in a perfect perfectionist's perfect row while they marveled in each other's cuteness. Then he asked for Elm’s opinion on the cake; as anticipated he answered  _ chocolate _ ; and he already had the perfect surprise recipe for that.

As soon as he got both of them on board their work went into full swing. If someone wasn’t mixing ingredients they were bringing them, and if not that they were preparing the next step. After quite some time making quite a mess with flour getting everywhere from the ceiling, walls, and the kids’ hair -noone was quite tall enough to get it into Dan’s-, the genuinely successful bake sat in the oven.

The two little ones were sat gawping at the lights behind the glass, their faces bathing in an orange glow. Once or twice Dan had to gently move them away from pressing their faces all the way up into the heating surface, but most of the time he simply sat back and beheld their endearing behaviour. It wasn’t like they hadn’t baked before, but they had never been allowed to be so involved in the process. 

Especially since communicating with Elm wasn’t one of many people’s strengths. As a father and a generally kind, empathetic person, he did however occasionally consciously remember that wasn’t quite fair to his boy, and so he sought to change it, like by engaging him in activities like these where he could be properly included and feel more welcome. 

Being only four years old, this was a crucial stage in his development, and like with Millie when they had her, they only wanted the best for him and his life.

Once the cake was done it was brought out of the oven by nimble hands. An aromatic, heavenly smell mingling with tinges of chocolate traveled around the room. Even Millie, usually and surprisingly enough not as affected by the craving of chocolate as the rest of her family, had to draw in an audible breath.

A small smile drew onto her face. “Oh.. that actually-”

“Smells heavenly? Amazing?”

“No, da’.” she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. “It’s the worst thing ‘ver.” 

Elm pouted, not quite understanding how to interpret that just by reading her lips and facial expressions, and so she signed as best as she could what she had meant. Dan felt a twinge of honor in his chest as the smiles on their faces grew to matching sizes.

“Then how about we-”

The front door, as if on que, squeaked open in that very moment. 

“I’m home!” could be heard, half-cheerfully and half-sombre from the entrance hall. Dan immediately signed to Elm that his other father was home, and told them both to hide behind the breakfast bar across the room. He had a surprise in store, and this time it was gonna be a good one, unlike ten years ago.

In a rush he scrambled away the leftover ingredients, and just in time. The second Phil stepped into the kitchen in his navy blue business suit the cake was safely hidden behind his back, and him + the house looked like there had never been any baking done at all.

The wide smile on his face must’ve taken his husband by surprise, for his face lit up in a mildly bewildered way, and his kiss was softer yet equally as warm and loving once he went in for it. Dan’s heart flipped, and Phil’s pulse clearly raced under his touch. 

“You’re very happy and not at all exhausted today, babe. And you’re voluntarily wearing an apron before I’ve gotten home.” he mumbled against his lips. “Any reason?” 

“For which thing, you spork.” Dan found himself chuckling. “I just wanted to cook dinner, darlin’.”

Phil surveyed the countertops suspiciously from the corner of his eye, and he hoped his blushing neck wasn’t too visible from his angle. “Clearly I’m interrupting that.” 

He both hated and loved how even to this day Phil could make him feel flustered like a teenager in front of their crush. Disregarding the fact that he once actually was. 

Still he tried to ignore Millie’s fake-disgusted giggles and gags in the background, hoping dearly Phil was too focused on him to hear her. Still he knew they were well-meaning. Elm was most likely getting parts of their conversation signed to him right now. 

“I, um, had yet to start. Obviously.”

“Obviously.”

A short silence manifested where they simply stood and smiled at each other. Then Phil piped back up again, glancing ‘round. Dan took a desperate step back to hide the cake as best as he could when he leaned on his shoulder. “So where’re the kiddos, then? It’s oddly quiet, isn’t it...”

“Yeah! Isn’t it!?”

“Dan-” Phil pleaded but he didn’t have to. When a gasp escaped his lips both of them swung around, to see Elm’s head peeking up over the ledge. He wobbled, obviously situated on Millie’s shoulders. Then he waved ungracefully, his wide eyes glistening.

Phil waved back, and once he’d signed him his  _ hellos _ he gasped again. “Is- is that his rainbow apron? And why is there flour in his hair?” He gave his husband a searching look as small, tender fists clasped around his stretched-out fingers.

Hands shaking, Dan brought the cake out from behind his back, just as their two kids clambered out into full view. The smile on Phil’s face was unwavering, and the typical warmth and gratitude seeped into his blue orbs.

“Is that the same recipe as you made… then. Just more successful, obviously.” Phil laughed, tone filled with softness. He found himself only being able to nod in response.

Then Phil sighed mock-exasperatedly. “But- it isn’t even my birthday yet!”

“I said so too!” Millie shouted just as his husband swiped his thumb through the icing, tasting it despite his words. Right then and there Dan was certain the collective laughter that rang through the kitchen, and the painfully wide smile on his lips, would never fade. 

Especially not after the taste of chocolate on Phil’s transferred onto his.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments appreciated! - - and do tell me about any discrepancies in the text or formatting issues... please


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